19/03/2026
有些仪式,是家人留在生活里的痕迹。
有时家人,
不是没有情感,
只是不太习惯把爱说得太清楚。
关心,常常藏在日常里。
在该出现的时候,
用对的方式出现。
妈妈总记得我最爱吃咕噜肉。
每次饭菜一上桌,
她不多问,
却总会把那一盘,
往我这边推一点,
还顺手多夹几块到我碗里。
爸爸不太会表达情绪,
但在大节日的时候,
总会骑着摩多车,
载我去附近可以看到烟花的花园。
风很大,路很暗,
却一定要一起看到那一刻的亮。
后来才慢慢懂得,
这些被反复发生的时刻,
这些看似微不足道的动作,
对家人而言,
正是我们之间最真实的仪式感。
仪式不隆重,
也不需要被说明。
有些爱,说不出口,
于是交给仪式去完成。
后来,有些人离开了。
饭桌上少了一个位置,
节日的路,也不再一起走。
但那些被重复过的仪式,
却没有因此消失。
当我们再次夹起熟悉的菜,
在节日的夜晚抬头看见烟花,
那些没能说出口的爱,
依然在这些动作里,
被轻轻接住。
原来,
仪式不只是陪伴当下,
也是替离开的人,
留在我们生活里的方式。
Some rituals are enduring traces our loved ones leave behind in our daily lives.
Sometimes, family members are not without emotions — they’re simply not used to expressing love too openly. Care is often hidden within the everyday, appearing at the right time, in the right way.
My Mom always remembers that my favourite dish is sweet and sour pork. Whenever the dish is served, she doesn’t say a word, but quietly pushes the plate closer to me, and slips a few extra pieces into my bowl.
Dad isn’t good at showing emotions, but during festivals he would ride his motorbike to take me to a nearby park where we could watch the fireworks. The wind was strong, the road was dark, yet he insisted we see that moment of brightness together.
Only later did I slowly understand: these repeated moments, these seemingly insignificant gestures, were in fact the truest rituals of family.
Rituals need not be grand, nor explained. Some love cannot be spoken — so it is entrusted to ritual.
Later, some people leave. One seat at the table is empty, the festive path no longer walked together.
Yet those repeated rituals did not disappear.
When we once again pick up a familiar dish, or look up at fireworks on a festival night, the love that was never spoken still rests gently within these actions.
Rituals, it turns out, are not only companions of the present — they are also the way those who have departed remain within our lives.
#富贵集团 #仪式 #记得